How It's Going To Be [h.s.]

Chapter 83

Today is not a normal update day for HIGTB, but I received a lovely message from a reader who encouraged me to update early. 

{Kate's Point of View}

Snow was piled up in front of my childhood home in impossibly tall mounds. It had snowed far less back in London than at home. Christmas lights dangled from the roof casting a festive glow over the newly white wonderland. I walked in the front door and smiled. The house smelled of gingerbread and vanilla. A Christmas tree was on display in the living room containing all of the poorly constructed ornaments I had made in school growing up.

"Is she here?" I heard my mother call.

"I heard the door!" my father responded.

I set my suitcase down in the entryway just as my parents appeared. My father still had the newspaper in his hand and my mother wore her flour-dusted apron. They had endearing smiles that made my heart swell. It had been months since I had seen my parents. I had been so close to them growing up. It felt good to be home for the holidays.

"Dad," I greeted him first with a hug.

"Glad to have you home, Kate."

My mother embraced me after. Her arms were tight around me. I could feel her love radiating off of her. "We missed you, angel."

"Missed you both, too." I pulled back and looked at them standing together. Without words, my father wrapped an arm around my mother. They looked so effortlessly happy together. Their love was so natural. I envied it.

"The cookies just came out of the oven! Would you like one?"

"Absolutely," I beamed. 

___________

I knelt on the floor in the glow of the Christmas tree beside my mother in a sea of gifts. Christmas music was playing softly from a speaker in the other room. Several rolls of Christmas wrapping paper, tape dispensers, pairs of scissors, and spools of ribbon were scattered around the floor. My mother hummed softly along the music as she finished expertly wrapping a gift.

This was one of the many traditions my family had during the Christmas holiday. Together we would decorate the tree, hang Christmas lights on the house, make sweets, wrap gifts, and drink candy cane hot cocoa by the fire. This year, however, I had arrived just before Christmas and missed out on many of the festivities.

"I wish you could have come sooner," my mother said, taping the edge of a partially wrapped gift.

"Work was insane," I said softly.

"I know, sweetheart. I'm glad you could make it."

"I'm just sad I missed out on decorating the tree and a few other things."

"Nothing to worry about! You're helping me wrap now. We will bake all day tomorrow. Then you can help me cook for Christmas Eve. We'll drink hot cocoa. It will still be a great holiday."

I wondered about Harry's Christmas traditions. He had grown up in a close family that surely had traditions they carried out each year. I tried to think if he had told me anything about holidays in his family, but I couldn't remember anything. I tried to picture Harry untangling strings of lights and trying to bake cookies. I thought of him hanging stockings on the mantle and the look on his face when he gave a gift to someone he cared about.

"Have you spoken to him lately?"

"Who?" I asked innocently. Of course she would bring up Harry just as I was thinking of him.